Casualties
by rustypolished
Summary: The lines between living and dying. The military had no use for a broken bot, and no honors either -  Implied Blitzwing/Astrotrain, Android!Formers, IDW and TFA inspired


**Warnings**: Assumes a fair share about the history of Cybertron. More in line with IDW's canon than anything else. Borrows a bit from TFA's treatment of Blitzwing (specifically, the dissociated identities). Entirely made up character back story.

**Written To**: Mogwai - kids will be skeletons

There were times when Astrotrain found himself trawling through the headlines and news broadcasts to fill in the gaps between lists of the dead with every maimed, traumatized and brutalized survivor who now had to live each day in the shadow of their own respective nightmares. There were times when it seemed like the names missing from those lists had suffered the worst fate of all. At least in death there was peace or something like it.

Blitzwing stirred on the other side of the room, eyebrows drawing together and hands coiling into the sheets though he showed no signs of being conscious otherwise. Another nightmare, maybe, or whatever the more accurate word for the fractured mess of memories and delusions that wove together to form Blitzwing's unconscious (and conscious) mind happened to be. Astrotrain sighed and frowned as he pushed himself onto his feet.

Different night, same routine.

It wasn't something that anyone could fix. Physical damage could be patched up; parts could be replaced. The wounds that scared over the mind and the spark weren't something that could be dealt with by any medic or scientist. After being left alone for years and forced to cannibalize the remains of his former friends and squad mates in the burnt out ruins of Kalis, the mech Blitzwing used to be was as much a collateral casualty as the corpses he sapped the energon from to survive. The only difference was the fact that he still functioned. Sort of. Astrotrain had never been one for introspection or philosophy, but as he stroked the sweat slicked hair away from Blitz's face and watched him struggle half-heartedly against the sheets, he had to wonder where the lines between living and dying really were.

Once upon a time, they had been happy.

"It's okay, Blitz, it's just a dream. You're alright." 'Alright' in the most relative sense possible. Blitzwing's optics opened, blown and unfocused, staring into the empty darkness passed Astrotrain's shoulders.

"I didn't mean it, I-" His voice was dry and strained, small like a child's, "You've gotta help me, I didn't mean it. I didn't want to."

"Shh, I know, I know." Astrotrain let his hand rest against Blitzwing's cheek, "You're not in any trouble."

"He won't listen to us. He- I...we're-" Blitzwing stumbled over his words, squeezing his optics closed as he tried to find what he wanted to say (and the voice with which to say it). "We didn't-" His voice shook and cracked, static for a second.

Once upon a time, they had been whole.

Then came the war. And nothing was whole again.

The empty space between rescuing Blitzwing from the rubble of the city and Megatron's personal invite to the Decepticon forces was blurry and streaked with a feeling of timelessness. Astrotrain couldn't rightfully tell how long they drifted without direction or purpose. The military had no use for broken bots, and no honors either. Discharged and cast aside. They began to measure moments in back alley brawls, street fights, and underground arenas.

So quickly did those they once bled to protect turn their backs.

Once upon a time, they'd fought for ideals rather than survival.

The bitterness turned to anger, which gave way to a hate brighter and stronger than Astrotrain had a name for and that hate found it's voice in a miner-turned-general from Tarn.

Blitzwing contorted and tensed against the sheets, curling against himself like he might vomit. It wouldn't be the first time and it wouldn't be the last. Astrotrain remembered when he'd still been able to feel horrified at the prospect, terrified even, that Blitz could possibly be that ill. Those times seemed very, very far away.

"Blitz, listen to me, it's okay, you're safe and everything's fine." Lies, lies, lies. Astrotrain hated how easy they were to say, "It's just a dream. Everything's fine."

Very, very far away.

"A-astro?"

"I'm right here." He tries to force a smile and for a moment is glad that Blitz's optics still aren't focused enough to see how hollow it is. "Go back to sleep, it's okay."

The war raged on.


End file.
